


Never Sinful

by deisegal



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-26
Updated: 2014-04-26
Packaged: 2018-01-20 21:39:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,023
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1526693
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deisegal/pseuds/deisegal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stannis and Melisandre spend one last night together at the Wall</p><p>Based on <a href="http://deisegal.tumblr.com/post/77636689018/stay">this drawing</a></p>
            </blockquote>





	Never Sinful

The light was fading fast on Stannis' last day at the Wall. He knew he wouldn't sleep that night but at least he could rest his weary body. He rolled up the map he'd been reading and handed it to Devan who was busying himself tidying up the chamber.

"Pack that near the top."

"Yes Your Grace".

"I'm going for a walk."

Devan immediately went to take Stannis' cloth-of-gold cloak from its hook on the wall but he waved him away.  


"No I'm not going far". He knew exactly how many steps he'd need to take to get to Melisandre's chamber. He'd traced that route on a dozen sleepless nights. He wasn't going to linger this time however.

"You needn't wait for me".

Devan stared at his boots. 

"Bryen will be along soon. I'm going to show him how I've packed your things."

Stannis was about to say something about how he should have let Bryen Farring pack everything to start with as he would be the one squiring for him on the march, but then he remembered the conversation from earlier. He had told Devan he would not be marching with him. The boy was crestfallen. Stannis explained how he needed a good squire to stay behind and tend the Lady Melisandre. He _was_ a good squire, and would grow up to be a fine knight one day. Perhaps he would even serve in his Kingsguard when he sat on the throne. He wasn't quite sure why Melisandre was so insistent that it be Devan who served her but it was a simple enough request.

Stannis had relieved him of his duties immediately but Devan had requested he be allowed to finish out his last day as squire for the King. He had puffed up his chest and Stannis could not help but be impressed and had relented. Would that he had a thousand Seaworths in his retinue.

Outside the cold bit into him immediately. He half regretted leaving his cloak.

He could hear shouting in the near distance, hammering from the forge, and the various sounds involved in putting a baggage train together. They were taking as many provisions as they could. He'd even had to haggle with Snow over that.

He looked around him as he arrived at the door to Melisandre's chamber. Part of him didn't care about the whispers. He knew that what he and Melisandre did was not sinful, though it may have appeared so from the outside. He knocked on the door and there was no response.

He knocked again. Again, no answer. He took a chance and turned the handle. As he suspected she was sitting in front of her precious flames. He closed the door and coughed softly. It took a louder cough to rouse her and she immediately made to stand up but he put up a hand. He took note of how uneasily she moved.

"No, stay seated. I only came here to inform you of my departure plans."

"You leave at first light, no?"

"Yes."

"I shall come to see you off and send R'hllor's blessing with you."  
"No need for that."

"I think your men would appreciate it."

"I think half of them would..."

She smiled wanly.

"Very well, if you must."

"I think it would be be wise."

An awkward silence hung in the air for a minute before she spoke again.

She arched an eyebrow, "that's all you came to say?"

"No. I spoke to Devan earlier."

"And how did he take it?"

"Like an order. Which is what it is. And he shall obey."

"Very good." She smiled faintly.

"So you'll have a good servant at least."

"Yes, he's a fine boy."

"I know how important it is for you to have good servants around you". He wanted to see if he could elicit a reaction from her, but she merely 

He wanted to see if he could elicit a telling reaction from her, but she merely laughed that peculiarly melodious laugh of hers. It was laugh she used when she was trying to humour him

She waved a hand in the air.

"The trappings of power my King. I must be seen to be worthy of respect in order to gain more respect."

He snorted, "Well I'm afraid the motley lot I'm leaving behind for you won't get you that...there's even one I should have hanged for being a craven, but he is from a noble family and his father and brother have been stalwart from the first so I didn't..."

He wasn't sure why he was explaining himself to her.

She shrugged and turned back to the fire, "I am sure you have taken care to look out for my wellbeing."

"By rights you should be coming with me."

She didn't even turn around.

"You know I cannot do that."

"I know nothing of the sort. What I _do_ know is that you chastised me for sending you away before Blackwater. You told me yourself you should always be at my side. And now you're staying behind? It's ridiculous."

He'd been trying to keep his voice level but realised he was shouting now. 

She stood up and crossed the room.

"I know I said all that. But the situation has changed. I did not realise just how...powerful I would be here. I cannot risk any diminishing of my powers now. Here is the perfect base from where I can see everything. My visions are stronger. But you must gather your armies and win over the men of the North. This is a war on all fronts now."

He clenched and unclenched his fists, feeling more tense as she approached him and began to circle him like a cat. He hated cats.

"We will be able to communicate through the flames."

"I think not! I can't see anything of my own accord."

"I taught you."

"You _showed_ me what to look for...I very much doubt I'll be able to make anything out of them on my own."

She sighed, "It's just as well I have faith enough for both of us then isn't it? I know I will see you. I feel it already."

He'd heard enough. "I'll take my leave of you now." He turned to leave but she grabbed his sleeve.

"Stay."

He froze on the spot, "I've no reason to stay."

"Oh really?" She ran her hand up his arm, "And tell me my king, how did you sleep last night? And the night before? And the night before that?"

He ground his teeth and focused his eyes on the door. It was true his sleep had been as terrible as ever the past three nights. But since the "incident" last week he had dared not stay another night in her bed.

"Please. Let me watch over you, pray for you."

"I don't need your prayers to help me sleep."

"You need something. Perhaps you would let me make you up something to drink?"

Those damn powders again. He didn't even want to know what she could do with most of those. He didn't like to resort to herbal trickery if he could help it. The body grew too accustomed to such things.

"No thank you."

She tilted her head and frowned at him.

"You would not even give me the pleasure of the company of my King, my champion, on this one last night?"

"Don't mock me!"

"I am not mocking you, my King. I would like to sit here a while with you. And if you sleep, all the better. I will know you will start your march with a rested body and a calm mind."

He doubted he'd ever have either of those again but the idea of lying in her bed was growing more appealing by the minute.

Very well. I'll sleep here a while.

He began to move towards the bed but again she pulled at his sleeve. "You're going to lie down in that chainmail coat?"

He huffed but didn't move a muscle as she began to pick at the laces.

"Why are you wearing this anyway? I thought you were getting quite used to wearing the black that the men of the Night's Watch wear. This is all so stiff and formal."

"I was not wearing the black of the Night's Watch. I merely chose those items for practicality. But I was at the armoury having this readjusted today. It wasn't fitting properly anym..."

She stopped and looked up at him. Their eyes met in an unspoken understanding. He knew why the flesh melted off his bones on a daily basis. He knew it wasn't just a lack of appetite. It was yet another price he paid for what they had done. It hadn't seemed to affect her. She looked exactly the same from the first day he laid eyes on her on Dragonstone.

"Well make sure to keep your strength up on the march. Eat regularly, yes?"

"Don't nag. I know when to eat just as well you do". 

She stopped again, took a deep breath, then continued working at the laces.

"You are _such_ a difficult man sometimes."

He snorted, "Sometimes?"

She laughed. And something inside him stirred. Because she wasn't laughing at him in a deferential, indulgent way. She was laughing at him as a man.

"I have grown quite fond of your difficult ways though. I've always liked a challenge."

She unbelted his coat and let the belt fall away, then pushed the coat off his shoulders. He shrugged it off the rest of the way and left it on the chair beside the bed before turning back to her.

She moved uncomfortably closed to him and again, ran her hands across his chest and fingered the strings on his shirt.

"I'll keep that on."

"As you wish."

She stepped aside and he passed her on the way to the bed.

She couldn't have failed to hear the snap of his bones as he lowered himself to sit on the mattress. She was standing observing him, her hands clasped in front of her.

He bent over to pull at his boots. The he sensed her at his side again.

"Let me help you."

He sighed and leaned back, allowing her to tug the boots from his feet.

Setting the boots to one side, she started to rub at his feet but he pulled away.

"Stop that!"

"But you're so cold?"

"No matter. I'll warm them in the bed."

He swung his legs over and sank back into the mattress, pulling the furs around him. There _was_ something different about Melisandre's bed, even if the mattresses were exactly the same. The chamber was certainly warmer and brighter than his own.

She smoothed down her skirts, "Would you like me to sing for you my King?"

"No.

" He squeezed his eyes shut. He did find her voice soothing but he wanted to lie in silence tonight.

"Then would you mind if I lay beside you?"

"It's your bed. I can't make you sleep in your chair." 

He kept his eyes shut and listened out for those all too familiar sounds; of her settling on the bed, the noise of her shoes as they hit the floor, the crinkle of the fabric on her dress. She moved the furs to cover herself and he instinctively turned his back to her. They had fallen into this pattern now over many weeks. He could tell himself it wasn't sinful as she pressed herself up against his back, her body small and soft. It wasn't sinful as her arm snaked around his waist and she buried her nose in his neck. Her breath was cool, unlike the rest of her. It certainly wasn't sinful when she lay a hand over his and squeezed gently. It wasn't sinful because he didn't squeeze back.

He smiled to himself as he felt sleep call him for the first time in days, assuring himself the whole while that nothing about having this woman - this most trusted advisor - wrapped around him was sinful.

Not even the lie seemed sinful anymore.


End file.
